The Baxter Trust

up.
    “Your Honor,” he said. “Some of the recent testimony has covered matters of which the prosecution has been aware for some time, but which have come as a surprise to the defense. I find I need to confer with my client. If I could ask for a brief recess.”
    Dirkson rose to his feet. “No objection, Your Honor. I’m sure counsel and his client have a lot to talk over.”
    Judge Crandell, irritated by Dirkson’s manner, considered a rebuke, but thought better of it. “Very well,” he said. “Court stands in recess for half an hour.”
    As court broke up, reporters surrounded a grinning Dirkson, while guards led Steve Winslow and Sheila Benton out a side door. They were marched down to a small visiting room and left alone.
    Sheila watched the guard close the door. The second it was closed, she wheeled on Steve. “All right,” she asked angrily. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
    “Trying to save your neck.”
    “Yeah, sure. What the hell happened to you?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “This morning you were going great. You were terrific. You had ’em all on the run. This afternoon you’re a washout. What happened?”
    Steve smiled. “Are you telling me you’re dissatisfied with the way I’m handling your case?”
    She stared at him. “Dissatisfied? No. Of course not. Why should I be dissatisfied? You run around court bowing and smiling like a fucking moron. You don’t know when to object. The judge has to run your case for you. And then, when the prosecution puts on an important witness who ties me right in with the murder, you don’t even cross-examine. Years from now, after I’m convicted of this crime, people will say ‘Sheila Benton? I remember her. She was the girl with the asshole lawyer.’”
    “Finished?”
    “I’m just getting started! Who the hell do you think you are, Perry fucking Mason?”
    Steve’s eyes faltered. It was an accurate shot. He looked at her and smiled. “No,” he said. “There’s a difference.”
    “What?”
    “Perry Mason knew what he was doing.”
    Sheila stared at him. “Are you telling me you don’t?”
    He nodded. “That’s right. I don’t. At least, not in the way you mean. You see, the thing about Perry Mason was he didn’t just try to get his client acquitted. He always tried to find the guilty party, to prove who actually did it. And the hard thing to realize is, that’s not the way it works.” Steve smiled and shook his head. “No one is going to break down on the witness stand and confess to this crime. That’s the thing you gotta understand. In all probability, we will never find out who really killed Robert Greely, or why. Now, that may be hard to take, but that’s how it is. So when I tell you I don’t know what I’m doing, what I mean is, I don’t have any ultimate goal, any secret plan. I don’t know who did it, and I don’t expect to be able to find out who did it. All I can do is try to blunt the testimony of the prosecution’s witnesses, and try to put your case in the best possible light. And in doing that, win over the jurors. ’Cause that’s what it’s gonna come down to—whether or not the jurors like us. That’s really it. It’s a popularity contest. Or a beauty contest. We score some points on the talent competition, and they crown you Miss Innocent Defendant. You see what I mean?”
    “Yes,” Sheila said. “I see what you mean. And I’m telling you, how you’re going about it stinks.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah. Didn’t you think that letter was important?”
    “It’s damned important. It gives the prosecution the link they need to establish your motive. It’s the most damaging evidence the prosecution’s put on so far.”
    “And so you just sit calmly and watch them do it?”
    “Look. The envelope was typed on that machine. That’s a fact. Nothing I can do is going to alter that fact.”
    “You could at least try. Or did you take one look at that handwriting expert and realize he was too much for you?”
    “I couldn’t have shaken his testimony, if that’s what you mean. All I would have accomplished would have been to make the jury think we felt the point was important.” Steve took a deep breath, and let it out again. “Look. This is a case in which all the facts are against you. There’s no getting away from them. I can’t even put you on the stand to deny them, because you’ve told so many lies to the police that you can’t stand up to cross-examination. So all I